


just try to appreciate what you got (while you got it)

by catsinouterspace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Jessica Moore Lives, Psychic Sam Winchester, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace/pseuds/catsinouterspace
Summary: Sam drags Jessica out of the apartment before it goes up in flames. The hard part is explaining exactly why the apartment caught fire.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester & Jessica Moore, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	just try to appreciate what you got (while you got it)

The glow of the street lights gave a glimmered yellow haze to the raindrops racing their way down the car's windows. Sam could remember countless hours sitting in this seat with the exact same view, silently betting on which droplet would get to the other side of the window quickest.

The only sound in the car was that of the wheels on the tarmac below them; the ACDC tape had rolled to a stop long ago leaving the car in eerie silence.

"What the fuck just happened?" Jess' voice was like a plate being dropped to the ground in a library, the sudden noise startling the patrons out of their reverie.

"I…" Sam didn't know what to say. He sat across from Jess in the back seat.

_ He hadn't... hated hunting with Dean. It made him ache, no that wasn't quite right, it was more that it made Sam acknowledge an ache that had been with him all through college. Being in that car, listening to 80's rock, searching for a body to burn. It made Sam feel like he was fifteen all over again in some ways. But it wasn't like that, this time Sam wasn't trapped. He had a future, an interview that could change his whole life lined up, an apartment with a long-term rental contract, and a girlfriend he loved to come home to once this ghost was back in the ground. So yeah, the actual hunting hadn't been too bad, fun even, because he knew that there was an expiration date to this, a point at which Sam would return to his real life. _

_ And coming home? Well, that was amazing. Hunts had always ended in some new dingy hotel where there wasn't enough hot water for all of them to have a hot shower to wash off whatever monster gunk was on them. The apartment was different, it smelled like home rather than mildew, the bed was just the right amount of firmness, and the pillow not too thick and not too thin. _

_ Sam was exhausted, it had been a while since he'd had the adrenaline rush that came with nearly dying and his body was sagging now that it had realised that death was no longer imminent. He made a beeline for the bed flopping onto it. Sam closed his eyes to inhale the scent of Jess' shampoo still on the pillow.  _

_ When he opened his eyes, she was there. _ __

_ On the ceiling. _

_ Sam remembers shouting, remembers Jess mouthing Sam, unable to scream. He had climbed onto the bed grabbed at her arms desperately trying to pull her down but she was stuck to the ceiling, he may as well have been trying to pull the building itself down. _

_ Dean must have heard his shouts, he ran back in and started firing salt rounds around where Jess was stuck, Sam's not sure what he was firing at but maybe just the purity of the salt was enough to undo whatever had been trapping her up there because Jess fell from the ceiling. Suddenly her entire weight fell onto Sam and he collapsed onto the bed. Whatever binding that had been undone meant that Jess’ scream was no longer silent, a long wail erupted from her, echoing throughout the room. _

_ Sam heaved himself up, holding Jess tightly to his chest, he ran to the door, Dean following close behind. Once out of the apartment Sam put Jess down and they bolted for the car. _

_ The impala's wheels spun for half a second before the car roared forward. Sam craned his neck to watch as their apartment burst into flames, fire licking its way up the walls, the inferno bright in the review mirror.  _

"Sam, I know you know something about this," Jess said, her voice was tired and worn out, too exhausted to let him get away with lying.

Sam worried at his bottom lip, he wasn’t sure how to say  _ hey, Jess so for the last four years I lied about my entire childhood, and apparently that nearly got you killed, I'm so sorry, please don't hate me.  _

"Sam and I, Dad too, the whole family, deal with that kind of stuff," Dean spoke up from the front seat.

Jess narrowed her eyes, "What kind of stuff?"

"Well,  _ that _ was a demon," Dean said matter of factly like he was telling someone what sort of dog had just passed them in the street, "But all kinds of stuff, ghosts and ghoulies, you know, the things that go bump in the night."

“You’re crazy," Jess let out a harsh bark of laughter, she turned to Sam, "Your brother's crazy right?"

Sam's eyes were big, his forehead pinched up and his lips pinched in a small pout.

"Jesus Christ," Jess said rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"Kind of the other direction but sure." Dean quipped.

Jess snorted despite herself, "So how long have you guys been doing this?"

"Dad started when I was 4, Sammy was just a baby, started learning to shoot as soon as he could walk."

It didn't take long for Jess to make the connection, "So after your mother died."

Silence settled back over the car.

"She didn't die in a fire, did she?"

Sam swallowed audibly, "Not one of natural causes."

"Like the one which just happened in our apartment?"

"Yeah." 

"So, you guys didn't manage to kill that one then?"

"Kind of a work in progress," Dean replied. "Guys, I don't know about you but I'm starving, we good to stop at this diner?" Dean had already flicked on the signal before he finished the question.

Dean sat on one side of the booth and Sam and Jess were on the other. The red plastic covering of the chairs was starting to rip away in the corners, giving way to yellow foam. The waiter who came to get their order looked like she would rather be anywhere else but here, a quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was two am in the morning so Sam could empathise with that. Only seven hours until his interview, hard to imagine that it had seemed like the most important thing in the world only a handful of hours ago and now he was skipping town.

"Uh yeah, could I get a burger with the lot, double fries?" Dean asked. "And coffee extra strong."

"I'll grab the vegetarian Ceaser salad," Sam offered the waitress a tired smile. "And a double shot latte."

"Could I please get the breakfast burger, with a coffee as well?"

The waitress finished scribbling on her pad before tearing the paper off; she gave them a curt nod and headed back toward the kitchen. 

The place was empty apart from the three of them, apparently, a 24/7 diner on the border of Nevada and California wasn't the hot spot to be at two am on a Monday morning.

"So, did you find your Dad?" Jess asked as she swallowed a bite of her burger; in the chaos John had almost been forgotten.

"No, but we're headed to Colorado, he left us some coordinates and-"

" _ Dean _ 's headed to Colorado." Sam interrupted his brother.

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"It's not safe," Sam said.

"Well, Stanford didn't seem very safe either, Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jess, maybe we could stay at your parents for a few weeks, figure out what to do from there."

"Are you kidding me?" Jess asked. "This thing tried to kill me, and you’re telling me there's other things like it out there? And you what? Expect me just to sit at home, baking with my mother?"

Sam blinked, "Jess, this stuff is-“ he huffed a sigh sighed, “It’s dangerous."

"I'm aware of that, Sam."

Sam turned to Dean, imploring his help.

Dean offered a one-shouldered shrug, "Girl's got a point."

"Dean-" Sam began.

"Sam," Jess snapped, "I'm not some damsel in distress that you get to put in a tower to keep safe, okay? I can make my own decisions."

Sam sat in silence, staring at his salad as if it had personally offended him.

“Look Sammy, this thing’s obviously after…” Dean trailed off.

“After me,” Sam practically growled, “Yes Dean, I get that this is my fault.”

“Hey,” Dean barked, “That’s not what I’m saying.”

Jess sighed placing her mug down, “Look we’re all tired, we can talk about this more later,  _ but _ ,” she paused to make eye contact with them both, “I think we can agree we’re safer together.”

Sam looked torn, “You’d be safer without me.” He finally said so quietly it’s barely audible.

“Well that,” Jess grabbed Sam’s hand and intertwined her fingers in his, “is not an option.”

Dean stared at their entwined hands, raised his eyes to meet his brother’s but Sam refused to look at him. “Right, well I reckon we drive on to Reno and crash there. Should be able to make it to Colorado in a couple of days from there.”

* * *

It’s pretty fucking obvious that John’s not here. And it’s just  _ typical. _ Four years since he’s had anything to do with his family and John  _ still _ manages to drag Sam halfway around the country without giving him any answers as to why. Sam’s still half living in a daydream where he attended that interview and is nervously waiting for a response. Every morning he wakes up and has to reconcile that this isn’t his apartment and it isn’t his apartment because his apartment was burnt to a crisp.

At least Jess is here. She’s called her parents, told them she needs a break between moving from pre-med to med, and some time to cope with the loss of the apartment. They were just renting so there’s not a financial fallout, but still, there were years of mementos there. Photo albums and the roses Sam had given her for their first anniversary that she’d painstakingly dried, old journals, and gifts from friends back in her home state that she doesn’t really talk to anymore but still loves.

“Why are we even still here?” Sam asked Dean.

“Uh, cause there’s something killing people here Sammy.”

Sam knows he should care more; he knows that the statement that people are being killed should evoke something other than utter ambivalence in him but, until four years ago, Sam wouldn’t be able to mention a singular period in his life that didn’t involve people dying. “Dad’s not here, Dean.”

“But it sure as hell looks like a wendigo is.” 

Sam rubbed his hand against his face, he didn’t want to be here, he wanted to rewind the clock to a week ago and tell Dean,  _ sorry but I have an interview on Monday.  _ He hated that he’d left; followed Dean off on another hunt because his Dad could be hurt, and then it turned out to be yet another convoluted way for his father to get Sam to do exactly what he wanted.

“Morning,” Jess opened the sliding door of the motel that led to the porch Sam and Dean were sitting on. She picked up some essentials from Target after losing her entire wardrobe and now stood in her jeans and runners and one of Sam’s plaid shirts rolled up to the elbows, it was comically large on her. “If we want to head out with Hayley, we should get going.”

“Yep,” Dean stood up, dusting off his thighs.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Sam started, not making a move to get up, “Do we want to head out with them?”

“Sam.” Dean said.

“Dean.” Sam responded in the same tone of voice. “Look Dad’s clearly not here, we’re just wasting our time.”

“Are you serious?” Jess asked, her mouth was partially open, eyes narrowed, “This thing’s killed people before, and it’s probably going to kill Hayley’s brother if it’s not stopped. How can you say that’s a waste of time? How would you feel if that was Dean?”

Sam opened his mouth, and then shut it again, letting out a long slow exhale, “You’re right.” He said. And she was of course, just because he had let himself get hardened by the constant death and misery doesn’t mean it was fair.

“Okay, well let’s get going,” Jess started walking to the car.

Dean clapped his hand on his brother’s back, “So when your girlfriend says it, it’s right but not when I do?” He pulled Sam down to give him a noogie.

“Get off me,” Sam muttered in a half-hearted protest.

* * *

Sam stood in the forest, it was completely silent, not a single bird, or bug, or critter made a noise, the only thing he could hear was the thudding of his own heart.

And then, “Sam, Sam, are you with me?”

Sam turned to face Jess, physically forcing himself to snap with it. He nodded. They’d joined Hayley on her search for her brother but the wendigo had just taken her and Dean too. Now that it’s his own brother Sam feels sick, he can’t believe that he had been willing to leave this place when Hayley’s brother was out there. He also really,  _ really  _ wishes he had.

“The things left claw marks on the trees,” Jess said, her hands were shaking but her voice was calm, “We can track it.”

Sam nodded, it is so obviously a trap, the thing has basically left them a trail of bread crumbs but that doesn’t mean they have any choice but to follow. The alternative is unthinkable.

The woods are stunning and Sam remembered going on a weekend hike with Jess, how they’d paused to take in the beauty of the scenery. Now everything that once would have been gorgeous feels sinister; the broad trunks of the trees were now just places creatures could hide, the sound of the wind whistling through the old branches just offered cover for the footsteps of the wendigo. 

Jess grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed it. Sam felt nauseous, a part of him wanted to turn and run right now, while he still had at least one thing precious to him; he didn’t think he could survive losing them both.

The entrance to the mine is exactly what he is expecting, the perfect den for the monster; filled with enough twisting and turning tunnels and a strong enough threat of the ceiling caving in that entering, even if there wasn’t a human eating beast in it, wouldn’t be the smartest idea.

“Ready?” Sam asked. 

Jess nodded; her jaw was clenched but her head was held up high.

Sam let a soft exhale out of his nose, he’s pretty sure his face had held the same steely determination when he’d gone on his first hunt.

The mining tunnels are narrow and short, not made for Sam’s large frame, they picked their way cautiously through the tunnels, marking where they make turns, the last thing they need is to get lost in here. Sam wanted to yell out, to scream Dean’s name, he could feel the word clawing at his throat but he knew he was more likely to just the wendigo their way than find his brother.

They turn a corner and Sam felt his whole body sag with relief as he saw Dean struggle against the ropes that tied him to the ceiling. Sam ran towards his brother, dropped his bag, and yanked the gag off of Dean’s mouth. He placed his torch sideways in his mouth before beginning to desperately work on the knots. Jess also moved forward, running towards a man, who Sam assumed was Hayley’s brother. He had been there a few days and was too exhausted to fight against his restraints anymore but he was still alive. They were all still alive. 

“Sam!” Dean bit out and Sam turned around just in time to see the creature lurch out of the shadows. It looked like a man gone wrong, sickly green skin stretched over a hunched frame. The beast paused to growl, and its sharp teeth flashed in the light of Sam’s torch.

Sam flicked his wrist and shone the torch directly into the creature's eyes. It flinched away from the unnatural light, briefly blinded, giving them a vital few seconds. 

Sam reached for the bag he’d dropped but it wasn’t there. Panic seized him before there was a burst of light at his side. Jess hurled a flare at the creature, and it struck its chest before bouncing backward. The wendigo let out a shriek that made Sam’s blood curdle. Jess threw the bag at Sam, her face pale and sweaty in the low light. “I’ll finish untying them!” 

Sam grabbed at another flare as the wendigo clawed at its scorched skin. The beast’s guttural wail made Sam’s ears ring. The monster turned its attention back to them, drool glinting off its sharp canines, the second skin sloughed off around its feet. Sam flicked his lighter, once, twice. - the beast lunged - three times, and the torch finally caught. He waved the open flame at the wendigo like a baseball bat, long lessons that had made up most of his childhood telling him the best way to get the most mileage out of his movements. The creature leaped out of the way, taking a step back from them. Sam gritted his teeth as it howled in frustration. 

“Get out of here!” Jess screamed.

Sam didn’t dare turn away from the creature to see who Jess was yelling at, but he heard the sound of retreating footsteps, stumbling away from the action. 

The creature seemed to realise that it was about to lose its dinner and lunged again. This time Sam managed to hit it. The impact was enough for the flame to flicker out, and they were plunged into total darkness.

The wendigo moved in complete silence. Sam could only hear the beating of his own heart, the sound of his brother breathing next to him. A gust of wind raced past Sam, his skin prickled at the sensation. The creature must have just missed him.

Light filled the tunnel again and Sam’s vision was restored just in time for him to watch the wendigo leap at him, mouth open in a snarl.

“ _ Duck _ !” 

The flare gun arced its way through the air.

Sam felt his back hit the ground before he registered that the wendigo had launched itself at him. The flare gun hit the creature with a meaty smack before it had a chance to sink its teeth into Sam’s throat.

Sam scrambled backward in the second that the flare gave him as the beast howled. It’s body caught fire, the heat so intense that it stung Sam’s face even once he managed to put several meters between himself and the creature.

The fire eventually fizzled out, the creature’s howls dying alongside it. The silence of the tunnel was broken only by Sam’s ragged breath.

Dean eventually broke the quiet. “Damn, you saved our arses back there, Jess.” 

Jess let out a high-pitched, half-hysterical laugh. “You still got the torch, Sam?”

“Um, it’s somewhere around here.” Sam cast a glance around but he couldn’t even see his own feet.

Dean flicked a lighter on, holding it towards the ground.

“Here,” Jess said, picking up the torch and switching it on. The three of them grinned at each other. “Come on we better catch up with Hayley and Roy.”

* * *

Sam opened his eyes to the sun filtering through the dusty curtains of the motel room. He blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He came to the dawning realisation that the room was empty. Sam jerked upright, panic seizing him, he had the .45 in his hand in an instant, he spun around, the room was empty.  _ His phone _ . Sam grabbed for it.

_ Hey sleeping beauty, we’re at the diner two doors down.  _ The message from Dean blinked at him, time-stamped half an hour ago. It was ten am. Sam didn’t think he’d slept that long, since, well since Dean broke into his house. Sam dropped the gun back into the drawer, his heart rate slowly returning back to normal.

Dean and Jess didn’t look up when Sam entered the cafe, they were sitting next to each other, a newspaper unfolded in front of them. Dean circled something, “Basically what you’re looking for is unusual deaths, or lots of deaths, really violent stuff too, vengeful spirits aren’t really for the whole slip away in your sleep thing.”

Sam slid into a chair across from them.

“Afternoon,” Jess and Dean said in unison.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes, it was good to see the two people he cared for most in the world getting along.

“You guys ordered?”

“And ate,” Dean told him.

“I could do with more coffee though.”

Sam turned around, making eye contact with the waiter and smiling at her. They ordered more coffee, and Sam got avocado toast, much to Dean’s dismay. “Anything interesting?” Sam gestured to the newspaper.

Dean shrugged, “Not really, guy in Texas was trampled by his cows, three days after the same thing happened to his son.”

“Same heard though?” Sam asked, “Kind of just sounds like some angry cows.”

“Yep,” Dean agreed. He shrugged, “Well Jess, what do you like to do in your spare time?” Jess went to open her mouth, and Dean held up a finger, “Just before you say anything, I’m not going to let you and Sammy drag me to an open night poetry jam.”

There was a harsh screech of metal as Sam shoved his chair backward. Sam grabbed at his head, his nails digging into his skin, he let out a low moan of agony. Dean’s eyes widened, he leapt out of his chair, hand moving to his holster but he couldn’t see anything to shoot at. Jess raced to the other side of the table, wrapped her arm around Sam’s shoulders.

“Hey, Sam, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, you’re here too, Sam.”

Sam stopped moaning, dropping his hands from his head, and for a few moments focused on breathing. “We need to go to Saginaw.”

“In Michigan?” Dean was incredulous.

“Yeah,” Sam pulled out his wallet and slapped some cash on the table, enough to pay for Jess and Dean’s meals as well as the next round of coffee and Sam’s yet-to-be-delivered breakfast.

* * *

“You going to tell me what this is about?” Dean asked, his thumb drumming an offbeat pattern on the steering wheel. Jess was in the back seat; she hadn’t said anything yet but Sam could feel her sneaking concerned glances at him.

“Somebody in Saginaw is going to die,” Sam told them, he stared at the window, watching the fields fly past at this speed, they were only a blur of yellow, the grass dry in the summer heat.

“Okaaay,” Dean drew out the word, “That have anything to do with your little meltdown in the diner?”

Sam bit his bottom lip, they drove past a collapsed shed, the tin it had been made of was now a brilliant orange, rusting into the ground. “Sometimes I get these visions.”

“Visions?” Dean bit out the word, “What the fuck Sam?”

“Dean.” Jess cautioned.

Dean inhaled through his nose, “So when were you going to tell us about that?” He asked, he slapped a smile over his words to appease Jess but it’s all teeth.

Sam shrugged one shoulder, “They were just dreams before.”

“Sam,” Jess leant forward so her face was in between their two chairs, “How do you know this is going to happen?”

Sam couldn’t look at her. “Because the stuff in my dreams happened.”

“Like what sort of stuff?” Dean asked.

Sam swallowed audibly, “Like Jess burning.”

The silence is so heavy it felt like it was crushing Sam, like his bones were being ground into the seats of the impala.

“Well, Jess didn’t burn.” Dean broke the silence, said it casually as though Sam hadn’t just admitted that he’d nearly been responsible for his girlfriend’s death.

“Maybe this man doesn’t need to die either,” Jess said.

Sam finally turned to look at her, to meet her gaze, he licked his top lip, “Jess…”

“Sam,” Jess responded, “It’s okay.”

* * *

The body is gone and in the place of a man is a pile of casseroles and a grieving family. It’s been ruled a suicide and if it wasn’t for the premonition there would be no reason to consider that anything more sinister had happened. After an awkward conversation with the family, they were sitting in the impala again; two priests and a nun. They were a religious family, the disguises made sense, but it makes Sam feel sacrilegious.

“Look man, maybe the dude just offed himself.” Dean started the car.

Sam shook his head vehemently, “No I saw him, Dean. He was trying to get out of that car, something was stopping him.” Sam ripped at the skin around his nails, picking at it until they started to bleed, “What’s the point of these visions if I can’t even stop them happening?”

“Because we can stop whatever this is from killing anyone else,” Jess said it with such conviction that Sam believed her.

At least until the guy’s brother dies too.

* * *

They leave Saginaw and Sam couldn’t help but think that they may have been better off not going after all. All they left in their wake were four dead bodies, a whole family gone. It could have been them just as easily, if John had remarried, if hunting hadn’t kept him from completely drowning himself in alcohol. Sam closed his eyes, leant his head against the headrest. In another universe could he have killed his family? A universe not so different to his own, just one step to the left, and instead of sitting next to his brother now, would Sam have his hands wrapped around Dean’s throat?

* * *

"But you have to have noticed something was weird, right?" Dean asked as he smeared ketchup across a chip. The three of them sat in a typical diner Sam and Jess next to each other and Dean across from them, burgers and chips served on waxy paper in bright red baskets were on the table in front of them.

Jess just shrugged, "I knew Sam,” Jess nudged his elbow with her own, “Didn't have a stereotypical upbring but..." 

"But aren't you college kids meant to be liberal anti-gunners?" Dean snorted; Sam rolled his eyes at the comment. "How did he explain keeping a gun beside his bed? And what about the salt? I mean a man can only claim he loves extra salty chips to an extent." Dean laughed, "When Cassie and I were together I claimed the sigils were because I liked art, she asked me to draw something else, and well, the game was up with that one.”

Jess opened her mouth to speak, she glanced at Sam whose jaw was set, he was looking steadfastly across the room at the specials board rather than at anyone on the table. “Um,” Jess started. She wasn’t sure what she was meant to say to that.

Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Sam.” 

Sam’s eyes cut to Dean. “Dean.”

“It’s not about being normal it’s about being safe, huh?” Dean parroted Sam’s earlier words. “Sam, you could have got yourself killed.”

“I know!” Sam snapped, of course, he knew, every time he saw Jess’ smile, her blond hair in his periphery, every time he woke up and she was there, he was reminded of what he could have lost, of what he had nearly so callously thrown away because of how desperate he was to pretend he was just like everyone else.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender before grabbing another chip, spearing it aggressively into a pile of ketchup.

* * *

All three of them froze when they entered the hotel room, staring at the figure that faced out the window. Jess very slowly reached for the gun tucked in her waistband, it’s crazy that this was already instinctual after such a short time period but she didn’t have time to dwell on that right now,

The man turned around and Jess saw Dean’s defensive stance drop, he instantly seemed to relax. Sam did not, for all the change in his body language one of the vamps they are hunting may as well have been grinning at them, fangs out.

“Dad,” Dean said as he strode forward towards the man.

And okay that made sense then.

“Dean,” the man responded warmly and they hugged each other.

Jess waited for an explosion, for a litany of  _ where the fuck were yous,  _ but no such thing happened. Dean was instantly ready to let John off the hook. Jess had initially been shocked by  how close Dean and Sam appeared to be considering Sam had chosen to up and leave him and the bitter way Sam had talked about his family, but as Jess watched Dean and John embrace as Sam stood awkwardly in the doorway she realised that over the past few months she’d only been privy to one part of the family dynamic.

When Dean and John let go of each other, John and Sam just stared at one another. A deer and a hunter frozen in the woods, waiting for the other to make the first move. Sam seemed to shrink down as though trying to compensate for the way that he now towered over his father.

“Sam.” John stated.

Sam nodded, as though to confirm that yes, that was his name, “Dad.” Sam’s voice cracked.

Jess became all too aware that this is the first time Sam has seen this man in over four years.

Their hug was quicker, an awkward backslap, a clear lack of understanding of how to cope with Sam’s height. Jess wondered when Sam first started growing so tall, wondered when John stopped hugging his son.

“And who’s this?” John asked, eyes cutting to Jess.

Sam moved to stand next to her, “Dad, this is Jess.”

John raised his eyebrows, “She knows?” There’s an accusation of  _ you told her?  _ In his tone.

“She does.” Jess smiled, the hard set of her eyes conflicting with the curve of her lips.

John ran his eyes over Jess and must have found her lacking because he directed his next question to Dean, “How much?”

“Everything.” Dean said simply, “The demon nearly got her, Sam found her on the ceiling.”

John turned back to Sam shocked, “And you managed to save her?”

Sam gave a half-hearted shrug, “Sort of, Dean had the rock salt.”

John stared at Jess for a long hard moment, nodded his head, “I’ve found out how to kill it.”

They waited in silence.

“That envelope you picked up…”

“Oh yeah,” Dean reached for the bag he dropped in the doorway, “It was addressed to you.” He grabbed the packet out of the bag and handed it to John.

John opened the parcel, pulling out an old gun, its handle was a shining silver, an intricate pattern carved into it. “This can kill anything. For good. Not exorcism so that bastard can crawl its way back out of hell, but real death.”

* * *

“You okay?”

Dean turned from where he had been staring into the propped-up boot of the impala to see Jess leaning against one of the pillars that held the motel up. “Yeah.” He said, voice gruff. “Why?”

“You’ve just been out here an awful long time.” 

Dean shut the boot of the car, and turned to face her, he half sat on the closed boot, “Well this is kind of the big showdown, gotta make sure everything’s in order.”

Jess nodded, “Sam and John seem pretty sure that everything’s as much in order as it can be.”

“They fighting?”

Jess shook her head, “Nope, planning the future it seems.”

“That’d be right.” Dean stared at the ground; the vacancy sign lit up the puddles in the car park.

Jess narrowed her eyes, “You sure you're okay?”

“They’re just so ready for it all to be over,” Dean said. 

Jess tilted her head to the side, “And you aren’t?”

“Of course, I am,” Dean responded too quickly, “I mean this is  _ it. _ ” He paused, took a deep breath, exhaled, considered his next words, “Just not sure what comes after.”

Jess was silent, waiting for Dean to elaborate.

“Look Sammy’s always wanted to stop hunting, I kind of thought when he got back into it that’d it be for good, you know? Like he’s had his time at college, playing at normal, but…”

“Sam still wants to go back to law.”

Dean offered a bitter smile, “Kid always was a nerd.” He bit his bottom lip, “Didn’t think Dad would want to go back though.”

Jess watched him for a moment, “What did you expect?” She asked, not unkindly.

“He just dedicated his whole life to this, and I know he had one before this but it kind of didn’t occur to me that that was something he wanted to go back to. He’s got a college education, he’s a VET, had a career, and Sam’s not going to have any issues getting into law school.”

There was a long moment of silence, “But?” Jess prompted.

“But. I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m just a high school dropout with a criminal record, fuck, I’m legally dead.”

“Dean, you’re a lot more than that. You’re resourceful, you’re great with cars, and you’ve saved more people than you can count. You could do anything you wanted to, besides it’s not like you have to quit hunting because John and Sam are. You can if you want, but you can also stay.”

Dean paused, studying Jess. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re shaping up to be a damn fine hunter, Jess.”

Jess stared at her hands, twisting her fingers around each other, “You know I always just wanted to help people. That’s why I decided to become a doctor. Four years at college, four years at medical school, another five as a resident.” She shook her head, “Hard to not do the figures and think about what I could do as a hunter in that time.”

“Lot safer being a doctor.” 

“Yeah.” Jess stared out into the night, thinking about how many years she spent not knowing what was out there.

* * *

The man stared at Sam, a wide grin on his face, yellow eyes narrowing, “You kill me, you kill Daddy.”

Dean lay on the floor, clutching at his chest, blood staining his shirt. Jess crouched by his side, holding her jacket against Dean’s chest to stem the bleeding.

“I know,” Sam responded, shooting Azazael in the leg, the demon collapsed onto the ground with a solid thunk. Sam followed suit, his own body finally giving out unable to fight anymore.

Jess left Dean to hold the jacket against himself and grabbed the gun from Sam, facing it at John.

There was silence, a breath of unsurety as they waited to see whether the eyes that opened would be yellow or brown.

“Jess!” John gasped out, opening his brown eyes they landed on her holding the gun at him. There was half a moment of relief before he shouted, “It’s still alive, it’s inside me I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me. You shoot me in the heart. Do it now!” John gasped out the words feverishly, rushed and panicked.

“Don’t you do it,” Dean cried from the floor.

“You gotta hurry.” John interrupted.

“Don’t you do it,” Dean repeated.

“Jess,” Sam mumbled; he sounded half dead already.

Jess' hands trembled so violently she wasn't sure she'd be able to make the shot even if she wanted to. She cast around looking to find Dean or Sam, both of them are on the ground bloody and bruised from when Azazel had been in control of John’s body. "This isn't my decision to make." Jess gasped out. 

"You're damned right it's not." John bit back, his whole body was withering, the demon inside of him fighting to escape. “It’s mine. You gotta hurry, I can’t hold on to it much longer. You shoot me. Shoot me... I’m begging you we can end this here and now. Jess!”

“Jess, no,” Dean begged.

“Jess…” Sam said again.

“You do this.” John sounded almost calm, sounded for a moment like a father talking to a child at the start of a little league’s football game. "Please, I can't hold it much longer, kill me." 

The room was completely silent.

Jess hadn’t even heard the gunshot go off.

Just saw the fight leave John’s body.

Jess became dimly aware of the fact that her whole body was shaking. Aware once more that she wasn’t in fact the only one in the room.

“Jess…” Sam’s voice was soft, halfway to a moan as he pulled himself upwards.

The gun clattered to the floor. It dropped and then bounced once.

“Sam, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jess.” Sam walked over to her, half dragging his left leg.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

Dean was quiet for a moment, “I’ll be okay.”

“Better head to the hospital.” Jess was surprised that her speech was broken by a harsh sob, she wasn’t sure when she started crying.

Sam wrapped his arms around her, folding her into him, he kissed the top of her head before letting her go, walking to his brother to give him a hand up.

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose. Azazel had done a number on him.

“Think you can walk?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded.

“Go to the car,” Sam instructed, turning to Jess, “Both of you. I’ll uh…” Sam trailed off.

“We have to burn him.”

“I know.” Sam nodded, “I’ll carry him to the car, he’ll be okay in the trunk until we can give him a proper,” Sam stopped, paused to swallow, took a deep breath, “A proper send-off.”


End file.
